If The World is Made of Gold,
by T. J. Shemaly |
Upon the pillow rested the head and the eyes closed and I dreamt The sun rays tickled down this face with a soft touch more like a lace While images of scenes raced through in my mind of a world I like to view and if the world is made of gold, what shall I get in hand to be? or where shall I be in this world, across the lands and sea by sea? if the heart chose but ol' Ireland, where my dreams are sound and free Scenery of the meadows led and the soul is taken out of bed Far across the sky into a race when the heart could not keep a pace Seeking a world I never knew where lies the rare ol' mountain dew and if the world is made of gold, what shall I gain or so to lose? or what if the world is to be sold, to a rich man with mood so loose? let the heart choose but ol' Ireland, where I dream the dreams and amuse With water and pieces of bread or with poverty and life in bed Goes so the living for the embrace of a land out of time and place A miracle just what fairies brew where that greenish is always new and if the world is made of gold, shall I build churches or domes? or synagogues of many a fold, amid the meadows and homes? care not I, if been in ol' Ireland, if the world is sold or so becomes |